


Words Unsaid

by angelgirl112358



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s01e01 Pilot, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-11 01:04:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7869259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelgirl112358/pseuds/angelgirl112358
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A glimpse into Sam's mind during his reunion with Dean in the pilot episode. Words once said cannot be unsaid. But sometimes, the words left unsaid are just as painful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words Unsaid

 

Sam was happy. He was enveloped in the comforting warmth of his worn out blanket, the rickety bed just a little too small to accommodate his gigantic frame, the thin mattress betraying the loose spring digging slightly into the small of his back. But Sam was happy.

Jess lay asleep beside him, her body loosely curled along his own and enclosed in the protective circle of his arms. He was studying in one of the most prestigious colleges in the country. The interview on Monday presented the opportunity of a lifetime. He was living a dream more beautiful than anything he had ever imagined.

His past was a bitter-sweet memory, dormant but never forgotten. It haunted his dreams and nightmares at night and lurked at the periphery of his vision during the day. The memories of his past were a ghost that could neither be banished nor salted and burned.

And the memories of his past echo with words; words spoken and words left unsaid, words that still haunt him and remind him of the past from which he had craved escape.

 Words spoken by loving brother to comfort and reassure him, words spoken sometimes to tease him and on rare occasions to express a brother’s love. These are  words that are cherished by him, even as they cause him pain to remember.

There are words from an angry father that shattered his heart, and words he himself spoke in retaliation. These are words that haunted his nightmares and words that he tried so hard to forget.

There are also words that were left unsaid, and they are the ones that cause him the most regret; _‘I’m sorry’_ and _‘I’ll miss you’_ and _‘please understand’_ and _‘don’t_ _hate me’_ and _‘I love you’_ and so many others that he should have voiced at the time but he’d forcibly restrained. These unsaid words are the ones that haunted him most, now that it was too late to verbalise them.

But for now, he was happy. For now, he was content to dismiss the echoes of his past and revel in the dreams of a future, a future that promised _home_ and _normal_ and _Jess_. For now he was happy to dream.

But sooner or later, the dream must end and give way to reality.

His dream is shattered by the sound of a muffled crash in the middle of the night. He awakens instantly, his body falling back to the life-long training drilled into his head and reacting to the threat long before his mind wakes up enough to acknowledge the intruder.

Despite his long sabbatical from hunting, his instincts are as sharp and honed as ever. And suddenly, he is Sam Winchester, the hunter, again. The college-boy persona evaporates effortlessly, as if it had never existed, and perhaps, it never _had_ existed. Perhaps he’s always been the hunter all along, even as he’d disguised himself as the prey. Perhaps he always will be a hunter, no matter how much he wishes he wasn’t.

He engages the intruder, exchanging punches and blows, giving no quarter. He’s breathing hard, adrenaline pumping through his blood and a strange exhilaration overcomes him as his body falls into a rhythm _so_ familiar that he is surprised. And then he catches a glimpse of the intruder _._ **“Whoa, easy tiger!”**

The dream he has been living in, _hiding in_ for the past few years fades into the background and suddenly he’s awake again. The past is no longer in the past, and neither are the haunting words. They are back with a vengeance, poised on the tip of his tongue.

 Perhaps, this time he will give them voice. Perhaps, this time he’ll release the words so they won’t haunt him anymore. Perhaps…Perhaps…But it’s been too long and the words are buried too deep.

Instead, all he can say is **“Dean?”** ‘ _It’s you, it’s really you…’_

 And **“You scared the crap out of me” ‘** _I missed you…’_

 **“That’s ‘cause you’re out of practice.”** And Sam knows he wants to say something but doesn’t know what. Or rather, he knows exactly what he wants to say but for some inexplicable reason he can’t bring himself to say it.

So instead, he flips his brother and pins him down in silent retaliation of the insult. Dean chuckles and Sam is suddenly struck by how much he missed that sound.

 **“Or not. Get off me!”** He obeys, pulling his brother up with him.

**“Dean, what the hell are you doing here?” ‘** _It’s been so long...’_

_“_ **I was looking for a beer.”**

**“What the hell are you doing here?”** He asks again, dreading the answer. Because it can’t be good. Whatever Dean’s reasons may be, it can’t be good.

**“Okay, alright. We got to talk.”**

**“Ah, the phone?” ‘** _You never called, not once. Why didn’t you call?’_

**“If I’d called, would you have picked up?”** There’s accusation in Dean’s voice but all he can think is ‘ _Yes. I’d have picked up. Just to hear your voice again…’_

Jess interrupts them then, having woken up by the ruckus they’d been causing. **“Jess, hey. Dean, this is my girlfriend Jessica.”**  It’s like a beautiful dream that turns into a nightmare. His past is colliding with his present and things are spiralling out of control and all he can think is _this is not how he envisioned introducing Dean to Jessica._

Jess, oblivious to the turmoil raging inside him, smiles. **“Wait, your brother Dean?”**

 **“I love the smurfs!”** Dean says and the situation would be comical if not for the fact that the little world he has built for himself is falling apart around him. And because he is Dean, his brother cannot help himself. **“You know, I gotta tell you, you are completely out of my brother’s league.”**

**“Just, let me put something on.”**

**“No, no, no. I wouldn’t dream of it. Seriously.”**

Watching his brother flirt with his girlfriend should be a greater source of annoyance than it is, but really he’s only mildly exasperated. Mostly he’s dumbfounded by the fact that his brother and his girlfriend are in the same room and talking to each other.

**“Anyway, I gotta borrow your boyfriend here, and talk about some private, family business but, uh, nice meeting you.”**

The subtle reminder of ‘the family business’ jolts him out of his shock and forces him into action. Because he worked too hard to build a life here, a _normal_ life, and he’d be damned if he lets it all fall apart. He knows though, subconsciously, he knows that things will never be the same again and that his world has already fallen apart. But he’s a Winchester, and he’s nothing if not stubborn. He walks purposefully towards Jess and wraps an arm around her shoulders to anchor him to the present so he is not swept away by the past.

 **“No. Whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her.”** He’s clinging to the last vestiges of his dream, trying to hold on, already knowing that the battle is lost.

 **“Okay.”** Dean relents. **“Dad hasn’t been home in a few days.”** He knew it. He knew that it wouldn’t be good…

 **“So he’s working overtime on a miller time shift. He’ll stumble back in sooner or later.”** ‘ _He’ll be fine. It’s Dad, ofcourse he’ll be fine…’_

**“Dad’s on a hunting trip. And he hasn’t been home in a few days.”**

_‘Oh God…’_ **“Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside.”** He can’t run from his past anymore.

As they stumble their way down the stairs in the dark, he makes one last ditch effort to hold on, because he can’t give up, not yet, not like that…and because he knows that he’s already tempted, was already prepared to leave as soon as Dean showed up.

 **“Dean, come on. You can’t just break in, in the middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you.”** But what he really means is _‘Don’t ask me to hit the road with you in the middle of the night, Dean. Because I will…because you’re the one asking…_

**“You’re not hearing me, Sammy. He’s missing. I need you to help me find him.”**

**“Remember the poltergeist in Amhurst? Or the Devil’s Gate in Clifton? He was missing then too. He’s always missing and he’s always fine.”** _‘Dad’s fine. He’s always fine…’_

**“Not for this long. Now are you going to come with me, or not?”**

**“I’m not.”** _‘I can’t…’_

**“Why not?”**

**“I swore I was done hunting. For good.”** _‘Because if I leave with you now, I’ll never come back…’_

**“Come on, it wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t that bad.”**

**“When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in the closet, he gave me a .45”**

**“Well, what was he supposed to do?”**

**“I was nine years old. He was supposed to say ‘don’t be afraid of the dark’”**

**“Don’t be afraid of the dark? Are you kidding me? Ofcourse you should be afraid of the dark. You know what’s out there!”** Dean doesn’t get it. He never has. Dean doesn’t get scared; it’s just not in his nature. And Sam, well, it was never the dark he was afraid of. It was what the things in the dark could do to him, to his family, that scared him.

 **“Yeah, but still, the way we grew up after Mom was killed, and Dad’s obsession to find the thing that killed her. But we still haven’t found the damn thing so we kill everything else we can find.”** And he’s tired. He’s so tired; tired of the revenge and the killing and the hunt. Tired of the constant pain and fear, wondering if the next hunt might be his last, waiting for the next kill, or waiting to be killed, or worse, waiting for his brother or father to be killed.

**“And save a lot of people while doing it too.”**

**“You think Mom would’ve wanted this for us?”** It’s a low blow, _God_ , he knows it’s a low blow but he’s desperate… **”The weapon’s training, the melting silver into bullets? Man, Dean, we were raised like warriors.”**

**“So what’re you going to do? Just live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it?”**

**“Not normal. Safe.”**

**“And that’s why you ran away?”** It stings, the disbelief and disappointment in Dean’s voice.

 **“I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go, I should stay gone. And that’s what I’m doing.”** And he wants to tell him the truth. _‘I’d never wanted to run away, I’d never meant to leave forever, I’d never meant to abandon my family, to abandon you. I’d never wanted to choose between Stanford and family, and I’d stupidly thought that I could have both, could have both Stanford and keep you close too and it was Dad who’d forced me to choose by giving an ultimatum and I’ve spent every day since wondering if I’d chosen wrong.’_

  **“Yeah well, Dad’s in real trouble right now, if he’s not dead already. I can feel it. I can’t do this alone.”**

**“Yes, you can.”**

**“Yeah, well, I don’t want to.”** It’s these words that do it, crumble his resolve to dust. Because his brother just said that he _wanted_ his help; not _needed_ , but _wanted_. With those words, he’s lost. He knows that he’s lost the battle because his brother wants his help and he knows that he could never say no.

He tries to convince himself that it’s just one hunt, and then he’ll come back home to Jess and he’ll be back in time for the interview and everything will go back to normal. He tries to pretend that that he believes it.

But he knows, intuitively, that the dream’s gone, and normal’s gone and he’ll never get it back again. There’s still so much he wants to say, to Dean, to Dad, to Jess. Instead, he says the words that he knows will seal his fate.

**“What was he hunting?”**


End file.
